


Light My Fire

by DangerousCommieSubversive



Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Ghost Rider (Comics)
Genre: Fire, Gift Fic, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fic, they have sex while on fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 07:16:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1296187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerousCommieSubversive/pseuds/DangerousCommieSubversive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No plot. No point. Just sex and fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light My Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CanAm77](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanAm77/gifts).



> Most of this was written while listening to the dulcet strains of Ke$ha; for the appropriate mood while reading, put on “Die Young.” ^^

 Those who know both of them will tell you that they have a lot in common. It’s not just the hair, or the obnoxious attitude, or even the weirdly similar names, although those are the subject of a fair amount of comedy among their mutual acquaintances. Johnny Storm, Johnny Blaze—how do you tell them apart? To which one or the other of them will say, irritated, “We’re not _that_  similar.”

But they  _do_  have this other quality in common, one that they don’t really notice themselves and that other people have trouble putting their finger on.

It’s  _heat._

And of course they’d  _also_  deny, even when pressed, that they  _ever_  have times like they’re having right now, nights when they’re both bored and horny but too lazy to go out and maybe a little drunk and definitely feeling lonely and they end up in Johnny’s room at the Baxter Building, lying on top of his fireproof sheets and fumbling like teenagers.

 

This time Johnny’s a little loopy, he took a whack on the head in a fight earlier.  _Mostly_  it’s not a problem, except that he keeps throwing off  _sparks._  A _little_  bit of that is normal. That’s why he has fireproof sheets. But  _this_  much is definitely not usual, and after the sixth or seventh time Johnny leaves a scorch mark on the wall he says, “Shit. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Blaze smirks. “Pretty sure I’m fireproof anyway.”

“…what, even like this?”

“Yep.”

Johnny thinks about this for a moment, pleased. “Can I  _test_  that?”

Barely a second to, “Yeah, why not, I’m feeling reckless.”

“Aren’t you  _always_  feeling reckless?”

“Aren’t  _you?_ ”

In response Johnny pulls one of his hands out from under Blaze’s shirt and sets it alight.

As his flaming hand nears Blaze’s arm he feels a faint resistance, almost a _movement._  It tickles his hand through the flames, a brush across his palm, and he tries not to laugh. “Can you  _feel_  that?”

“Yeah.” Blaze looks puzzled. “I think—I think we’re safe.”

As Johnny’s hand moves closer, the tickling gets stronger, and then he  _does_ it, he puts his burning fingers against Blaze’s shoulder. His skin is cool to the touch, and he does not burn.

Or rather…not that way.

Because as Johnny, fascinated, draws his fingertips down his friend’s bicep, Blaze bursts into flames, or at least the illusion of flames. They’re not hot, they don’t burn anything, they just flicker bright around his body. The room is filled with unsteady light.

Blaze shivers. “This feels…different. You feel  _warm._  But I  _don’t._ ”

“This is  _awesome._  Gimme a second, I wanna get out of my things so I can flame on the rest of the way.”

“Why not just burn your clothes off?”

“You  _kidding?_  These jeans are designer. Also ash  _gets_  places.”

Blaze snorts and starts to laugh so hard that he’s genuinely in danger of falling off the bed. This somehow doesn’t make him any less horny.

 _Tump_  as Johnny’s jeans and belt hit the far wall, followed by his underwear, and then he grins. “However, I know for a  _fact_  that you got  _your_  jeans for twenty dollars at Wal-Mart.”

Blaze laughs harder.

“And I can deal with a  _little_  ash.”

He lunges, pins Blaze to the bed, and ignites as their mouths meet. Blaze arches up into him, exploding into ghostly fire as the few clothes he  _was_ wearing disintegrate. There isn’t even ash  _left,_  and the fireproof sheets curl a bit around the edges, strained past their usual point of tolerance.

Blaze’s flames aren’t  _real_ , but they are still  _present,_  they spread from him to wrap around Johnny, first as if trying to snuff his fire but then joining with it. It tickles at first, and then does  _not_  tickle, becoming a slow and sensuous caress that makes Johnny gasp,  _“_ _Hhhhh…”_  and  _flare._

And even Johnny’s  _tongue_  is on fire as he licks into Blaze’s mouth, moves down to trace abstract patterns around his nipples, his very real heat stroking Blaze’s skin as he wraps a hand around both their cocks. Blaze shouts, and it has some of the Rider’s full-voiced growl to it, and then he sinks his teeth into the side of Johnny’s neck and claws at his back with fiery fingers. To an outside observer they would be a bonfire, an explosion, a nova, throwing off arcing flares of light as they move.

Skin on skin.

Fire mixed with fire.

Smoke curls up from the headboard as Blaze tenses and comes, yelling again, skull visible for a split second beneath his skin.

And Johnny comes and the flame redoubles and the mattress hits the floor with a soft  _thumph._

The flame dies down and they’re just lying there, both covered in a sheen of sweat, panting.

After a moment Blaze looks around and says, “We burned your bed.”

“I can replace it.” Johnny’s voice is muffled; his face is pressed into Blaze’s shoulder. “That was awesome.”

“That  _was_  pretty awesome, yeah.” Blaze grins at the ceiling, feeling sort of sleepy and dumb. “We should do that again.”

“I wonder if we could do it flying.”

“Definitely something to think about.”


End file.
